


The Differences Between Genocide and Suicide

by thegreatgayjatsby



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Eridan wasn't genocidal, Gen, He finds another use for sopor slime., He was suicidal and so, TW: Self-hate, TW: Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-18
Updated: 2014-03-18
Packaged: 2018-01-16 05:33:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1333948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatgayjatsby/pseuds/thegreatgayjatsby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eridan's not genocidal. He's suicidal. And he finds another use for sopor slime pie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Differences Between Genocide and Suicide

**Author's Note:**

> I felt bad and this was a coping fic.

Your name is Eridan Ampora, and you want to die. 

It is a little past midnight, and you are still reeling from the fact that your long-time moirail just dumped you. Why? Because you’d entered a game and she no longer had to deal with your genocidal idealization tendencies.

Little did she know, they hadn’t been entirely genocidal. It had been more of a show to hide the true feelings you were trying to cope with. 

You didn’t want to commit genocide. You wanted to commit suicide.

They didn’t deserve to die, but you did. You could have done it, and it wasn’t like it would have been difficult. You just didn’t have to feed Feferi’s lusus for a few weeks. It would be easy enough for the Vast Glub to be summoned from the great hunger of the Kraken.

You would rather have peeled your fins off and shoved them sideways into your gills. 

It didn’t matter, anyways. This was a game now, and nothing mattered. It was time. You were going to die. 

Taking a few deep breaths, you close your eyes, dipping your fingers into the pot of sopor Gamzee had so kindly lent you. He could have the rest of it back when they found you. You’re laying here, in your taken over respiteblock, eyes closed, gently smearing lines of sopor into your rib and neckgills both.

There’s a reason seadwellers don’t really sleep in sopor. Their recuperacoons were shallow, and they were only soaked deep enough to ensure a good rest. You were applying sopor directly into your gills, and slowly, your limbs were aching.

You were so tired. You were drifting by now, your hands had ceased moving. You’re so tired, so very tired. You’re dying. 

And for once, you’re okay. For once, you don’t miss Feferi. For once, you’re not a useless fucking prick. You’re okay with this.


End file.
